Wrong Side of the Tracks by Ashley Zakrzewski

ChapterFive

Izzy rolled over and bumped into the wall. “Ow.” She rubbed her head and opened her eyes, not quite sure where she was. Slowly, she began her mental walkthrough of new life. Her scratchy blankets had replaced her silk bedding. The low scratching sounds in the walls weren’t anything like the gentle knock of her maid bringing her breakfast in bed. And the horrid scent of mildew was the complete opposite of her lavender-infused sheets and pillows.

“Ugh.” She forced herself to sit up and adjusted her body on the narrow bed so she wouldn’t fall off. Although she’d done what she’d known was right, some mornings she regretted her decision to leave her safe, privileged life in Boston for this shithole apartment in Virginia. That’s when she had to remind herself that her safety in Boston had been an illusion. And now that she knew the truth about her stepfather, there was no going back to that pampered, protected world.

Although, she had to admit, right now she’d love a tray of hot tea, warm chocolate croissants, and a bowl of her favorite Greek yogurt with fresh strawberries. Then the memories of the night before flooded in: her wounded hand, the biker possibly waiting for her in the dark, and Hawk. The uber-hot biker who turned her normally intelligent conversation into drivel, whose touch made her wobbly, whose kisses left her desperately wanting more.

Except he hadn’t kissed her last night.

She hated to admit her disappointment. Since leaving him in that motel room a few weeks earlier, she deliberately didn’t think about where he now went for satisfaction. It was too painful.

Sighing, she checked her watch lying on the bedside table. It was almost seven, and she needed to get her act together if she was going to survive this nightmare. Then she searched the bed for her gun, except it wasn’t there. Her heart revved beneath her breasts, and she glanced at her hand to see the silver Claddagh. Thank goodness. She wasn’t happy her gun was missing, but at least she had the ring.

No noise came from the family room, so she assumed Hawk was still asleep. She hadn’t fought his decision about spending the night because the truth was she hated sleeping alone in the apartment. After he’d left her alone, she’d woken up to find her gun and her ring before falling back asleep. She always felt safer when they were close.

She swung her legs off the edge of the bed and stood. Her hand, still bandaged, didn’t hurt nearly as much. As she moved through her morning routine in the bathroom, keeping her hand dry, all of her limited options ran through her head. She’d saved up some money, and she needed transportation. Maybe, if she asked nicely, Hawk would help her with the car situation. If she could trade in her Kia, maybe she’d have enough for a small used vehicle. She doubted it, but a woman could hope.

Once she’d dressed in jeans, white T-shirt, Converse sneakers, and had braided her hair, she packed all of her few belongings into her duffel. She did this every morning since she always needed to be ready to leave without any notice. As she zipped up, she noticed the small prepaid phone in the outside pocket.

Should she or shouldn’t she?

Her indecision warred in her mind and she turned the ring around and around on her finger. If she made the call, everything would change. But if things were about to change anyway, she had to have options. She pulled out the prepaid phone she’d yet to use and opened it to see the preprogrammed number. She wasn’t worried about the phone call giving away her location. She was worried about the new cycle of misery the call would set into motion. A new cycle that might be her only way out, if her contact was to be believed.

After a long minute of internal warfare, she put the phone into the pocket and zipped it up. Happy with her choice, she left her room to wake up Hawk and find her gun. Since she had had it when she’d fallen asleep, he must have taken it. But instead of finding Hawk, she saw a strange man sitting on the stool near the counter, drinking coffee and eating a jelly donut. His phone, propped up against one of the candles, played a cartoon. Because his back was toward her, she saw the back of his black leather cut. The top rocker said “Devil’s Renegades” with the bottom rocker sporting a “Prospect” patch. The logo in the center was of a skeletal death head surrounded by angel’s wings.

“Who are you?” She wasn’t nervous since she assumed Hawk had sent the prospect over. But she was annoyed because she’d been hoping to talk to Hawk about her transportation situation.

The tall man with long blond hair tied behind his neck turned to face her, and she tried to hide her sudden inhale. She’d spent a lot of time around wealthy men, both in college and afterwards, but this man with his high cheekbones and blue eyes had to be one of the most handsome she’d ever met.

Except for Hawk, of course.

“Hey.” He placed his coffee on the counter and held out a hand. “I’m Cali. Hawk sent me here to protect you.”

She wanted to argue the point about protection, but she wasn’t stupid. Until she figured out who that biker had been last night, she was happy to hide behind the extra muscle. Not sure what to say, she motioned to the donut on his plate, near the white bakery bag. “Did you bring any more donuts?”

His wide smile took over his face and he hurried around the counter. “Coffee, jellies, and chocolate croissants.” He popped a takeaway cup into the microwave and hit the thirty-second button.

“I’ll take a croissant.” She picked up the white bakery and found her gun beneath it. “Who took my gun?”

“Hawk.” Cali took the cup out of the microwave and handed it to her. Then he opened the bakery bag and pulled out a croissant. “He was worried you’d wake up disoriented and shoot him. Or me.”

She smiled. “Hawk wasn’t wrong about that.” She sipped her coffee and sighed. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“No prob.” Cali put the croissant onto a plate and popped it into the microwave. “Hawk said he’d be back around ten.”

She nodded and sat on the stool, waiting for her croissant. Meanwhile, Cali crossed his arms and stared at her. “So...”

“So...” She tilted her head. If Hawk was spreading rumors she was a sweet butt, she’d take off his head with a butter knife. “What?”

He took the plate out of the microwave, placed it on the counter, and pushed it toward her. “Do you know you don’t have a television?”

She burst into laughter. That wasn’t at all what she’d expected. “Not only do I not have a T.V., I don’t have a computer or personal cell phone. I don’t use credit or debit cards. I am technologically free.”

He tore two pieces of paper towels off the roll and folded them like napkins. “You know that’s weird, right?”

She shrugged and took a bite of the croissant. It was a perfect combo of flakiness and warm chocolate. “I’m frugal.”

“I can see that.” He found his jelly donut, took a huge bite, and spoke with his mouth full. “Or you’re on the run, living in a dump, and protecting yourself from digital trackers.”

The croissant suddenly tasted like sawdust, and she took a sip of coffee. “What did Hawk tell you?”

“Enough to know you might be in trouble.”

“It’s possible Hawk is correct.” She chewed her bottom lip and glanced at Cali from beneath her bangs. “And the last thing I want to do is involve your club.”

He finished his donut and wiped his fingers on the makeshift napkin. “If Hawk is involved, so are we.”

That’s what she was worried about. She finished her croissant, mostly because she didn’t want to be rude, and reached for the napkin when Cali took her unbandaged hand and held it up. “What are you doing?”

“Your Claddagh ring.” He turned her hand to inspect her finger. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

“Thanks.” She pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap, beneath the counter. Then she drank her coffee, trying to keep her shakiness from spilling it. “It belonged to my gran.”

He nodded, but he stared at something over her shoulder. With his eyebrows crunched and his lips pursed, he appeared deep in thought. “My mom had a similar ring. Although not as elaborate as yours.”

Her smile felt tight, but she forced herself to act like a normal person who wasn’t wearing an ancient, priceless artifact on her left hand. “Are there any more donuts?” She wasn’t hungry, but she needed the distraction.

He shook his head, as if trying to forget something, and lifted the bag. “Raspberry jelly or lemon creme?”

“Jelly—” A loud shot and the sound of breaking glass echoed around the room. The white bag Cali held exploded, and bits of pastry and paper flew everywhere.

“Get down!” Cali jumped over the counter and pushed her onto the floor.

Just as her knees slammed into the wood, another shot whizzed by her head. Someone was shooting at them?

“Fuck.” Cali’s enormous body landed on top of her. From beneath his arm, she saw him dial his prepaid cell phone. “Get into the bedroom. When someone answers, tell them we need backup.”

He rolled off of her and handed her the phone. More shots came through the room, many of them landing in the kitchen walls. The staccato noise sounded like hail hitting the tin roof, except with lead instead of ice. She slid across the floor, favoring her aching knees, and worked her way down the short hallway. When she looked back at Cali, he was standing in the middle of the room, holding two guns—hers and his. He walked toward the front door and disappeared from view. But she heard his voice ring out, “Come and get me, motherfuckers!”

The phone picked up on the third ring and she didn’t wait for a greeting. “We’re under attack. Need help. Now.

She hung up and yelled, “Cali! Bedroom! We can get out that way!”

She crawled into the bedroom, grabbed her bag, and ran into the bathroom. There were no bullets coming through the bathroom window—yet.

Cali appeared behind her. “What now?”

“Help me open the window. I know a way out.” She’d practiced this escape a few times now, never really expecting she’d need it. It had always taken her too long to open the window, but her cut hand made it impossible to do by herself.

“Move over.” Cali lifted the old-fashioned heavy sash and grunted. It had once been painted shut and wasn’t easy to open. He got the window up on the third try. Luckily the sash weights still worked so they could crawl onto a tiny metal fire escape landing. “Now we go up.”

Cali took her bag and motioned for her to climb up the rickety stairs first. They made it to the roof just as a bullet hit the metal water tank near them. She ran toward the eastern edge of the roof and pointed at the building next door. A foot of space separated the two roofs. “Now we jump.”

Without waiting for his reply, she jumped. Once she landed on the black surface, she turned back to face him. He tossed her the bag and jumped. His landing was wobbly, and he sank into a roll. But he recovered quickly, took the bag out of her arms, and followed her across the gravelly surface toward the next building. “This jump is a bit harder.”

“How hard?”

She stopped at the edge of the roof and looked down. The next roof was two feet away and three feet down. “This hard.”

A bullet sounded somewhere behind them, and Cali tossed her bag across the distance. It landed on the next roof with a loud thump just as he said, “Jump!

* * *

“Hawk?” Thor took his laptop back and closed it. Then he stamped out his smoke in the nearby ashtray. “Why is Nine, that Black Jacks fucker, showing his ugly mug at our clubhouse? Why isn’t he in Salem where he belongs?”

“Black Jacks are in Ravensburg?” Eagle strode through the door and headed for his seat across from Hawk. “Is that what this meeting is about?”

Five more brothers—Drac, Twitch, Fate, Cheery, and Volt—came in behind Eagle and took their assigned seats. They all wore their cuts over dirty jeans, and none of them were going to win any beauty awards this morning.

Drac, with his bald, tattooed head, hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt or shoes. Twitch had shoved his long brown hair into a messy man bun and his Harley T-shirt hadn’t been washed in months. Fate’s long blond hair and beard, along with his ice blue eyes, reminded Hawk of those Viking shows they all watched together. Volt, who was both very tall and very thin, had braided his long black hair with silver beads to match his small silver hoop earrings.

Cheery wore a new T-shirt with the tag hanging off the neck seam, and his bald head was covered in tiny bits of white tissue, as if he’d just shaved his head a few minutes ago. Hawk counted seven brothers, including himself, around the table. The other four, including their president Acid, were on the road.

“Whew!” Thor waved his hand in front of his face. “Where did you all sleep last night? A slit trench?”

“Screw you.” Eagle sat his ass down carefully. Considering the greenish tinge to his face, Hawk kicked the black plastic trash can closer to their Sergeant-at-Arms. Eagle responded with a middle finger.

Cheery stood at the end of the table, shifting from one foot to the other. Hawk had forgotten this was Cheery’s first church as a fully patched member and nodded to the empty chair next to Twitch. He had to give Cheery credit, though, for not choosing a chair on his own and for not appearing as if he’d spent the night completely shit-faced. “Sit there for now, Cheery. We’ll reassign your seat when everyone returns.”

“Thanks, Hawk.” Cheery sat and clasped his fingers together on the desk. “Is it true? Are there Black Jacks in town?”

“Last night Nine showed up at the clubhouse, looking for me.” Hawk opened Thor’s laptop and turned it toward the table so everyone could see Nine’s security camera image. “And J.R. saw him smoking behind Rebel’s Refuge, maybe waiting for someone.”

“Sonofabitch,” Twitch muttered. “He’s even uglier than I remembered.”

Drac, the club’s treasurer, adjusted his glasses. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“It’s Nine,” Fate said. “I’d recognize that scar anywhere.”

All the men around the table laughed because most of them remembered the night Fate gave Nine that scar.

Volt, as usual, didn’t say anything. He just nodded and bummed a cigarette off of Thor. The recalcitrant brother rarely spoke if Acid, their president, wasn’t present.

“Hawk?” Eagle clasped his hands behind his neck. “Do you believe Nine was waiting for you behind the bar?”

“It’s possible.” He shut the laptop and pushed it back toward Thor. “I think it’s more likely he was waiting for Izzy.”

“Who the hell is Izzy?” Twitch looked around the room, hands out, as if shocked there was a woman in their world he hadn’t met—or tapped—yet.

“Izzy is the new bartender working with Tish.” Hawk pushed the stack of papers Cali had printed out over to Eagle. While he’d been sleeping with her, he’d kept their relationship a secret from the club. He’d had nothing to hide, but he’d not wanted to share any details of the time together. His brothers were like middle school boys. They sought out gossip about naked women with the precision of a heat-seeking missile. “Izzy is Isolde O’Cleary. She’s the only child of Ian O’Cleary. Owner and CEO of OCL Enterprises.”

Eagle put on his glasses and read through the pages. “What’s a rich princess like Isolde doing in a backwater Virginia mountain town?”

“She’s on the run.” All the men returned their attention to him. “I have no idea why she’s on the run, but I suspect her father is using the Black Jacks MC to search for her.”

“Why would the MC help this O’Cleary dude?” Cheery asked. “Aren’t they gunrunners?”

Like us? Cheery didn’t ask the question, but Hawk heard the undercurrent in the new brother’s voice.

“Because,” Eagle said as he turned a page. “O’Cleary doesn’t just head a biochemical company. He has ties to the IRA. O’Cleary is the Boston contact between the Northern Ireland gun trade and the Massachusetts Black Jacks chapter. One could say they have a symbiotic relationship.”

“What does any of this have to do with us?” Twitch asked.

Thor muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Nine came here, last night, looking for Hawk. And then headed to Rebel’s Refuge. Even if he was after Isolde O’Cleary, he stepped onto two of our properties. Those actions make this club business.”

Conversations broke out between the men until Hawk whistled loudly, bringing their attention back to him. “Right now I have Cali protecting Izzy. After this, I’m going to head over there and see if I can get her to tell me anything about why she left and why the MC is looking for her. In the meantime,” He pointed at Thor and Twitch. “I want you two each to divide up the men into two teams and search this town. If Nine was here last night, he’s still here today. We don’t know what he wants, but he’s not going to leave without at least trying to accomplish his goal. So take the men, including the prospects, and find that Black Jack. Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and discover he’s gone rogue and wants to join us instead of fight us.”

“Doubt that,” Eagle said sullenly as he flipped through more pages about Izzy.

Hawk’s phone rang, and he took it out of his back pocket. Cali’s ID popped up, and he put the phone on speaker before he answered with a gruff, “What’s up?”

Izzy’s voice sounded high and panicky. “We’re under attack. Need help. Now.”